Something Different
by Nekouyoku
Summary: Sam and Gabe's night takes something of a depressing turn and Gabriel plays the role of awkward back-patter. Definitely Sabriel. Mentions of Sam/Jessica


Forever trying to be the 10% worth dying for

Disclaimer: Characters not mine

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Sam and Gabriel weren't exactly friendly with each other. No mushy stuff, lovey-dovey hand holding and giggling that Castiel and Dean liked to deny they engaged in. No, Sam and Gabe were really more friends with benefits than anything, ribbing each other and then escaping wherever for a quick screw. When you were sleeping with an archangel, the possibilities were basically endless.

But, even so, they still had to play out the 'friend' part to attach 'benefits' to it. So every so often, Gabe would show up with mysteriously endless pack of beer and a grin that wouldn't quite put the sun to shame, but hey, you had to give him an A for effort.

And they would just talk. Not like pillow talk or 'feelings' shit, just complain about family and monsters and things that were basically out of their control, and end the night with maybe a quick romp and the satisfaction that while they were miserable, at least everyone else around them was, too.

But this night was a little different.

Up to the beer and complaining, it was pretty normal. They'd fallen into a comfortable silence, sitting on the edge of a motel bed that had seen better days, and taking drinks of whatever Gabe had decided to show up with that time. Not that the archangel really got drunk, but…he could at least act like he was trying.

Gabriel was examining the pattern in the carpet, halfway lost in thought when he heard a quiet sniff come from beside him and a couple feet up. Glancing over instinctively, he saw—to his surprise—that his companion's eyes were rimmed red and threatening to start leaking.

"Hey," he spoke up, before he could think. If it were anyone else, he might have pretended not to see, but—well, that line of thinking led him to have to admit Sam was special to him, so he just focused on the task at hand. "What's wrong?"

Sam startled slightly, like he'd forgotten there was someone else in the room, and brought a sleeve up to wipe his eyes, shaking his head slightly. "No, nothing, it's nothing," he said, in an utterly unconvincing way.

"You sure, Sammy?" the angel prodded, raising his eyebrows slightly. And Sam nodded a few times, or at least tried to, but despite biting his lip and turning his eyes upwards, a tear still ran down his face and he moved to wipe it off again.

"Okay, uh…no," Sam decided, laughing slightly even while the tear was followed by others, and he turned downwards to fidget with the neck of his bottle, taking breaths to compose himself that only shuddered more with each try, until he soon had his hand against his mouth to muffle a sob.

"Hey, woah," Gabe said, shifting closer and taking the bottle from Sam's hand to set the two on the floor before placing his hand on the Winchester's back and not quite knowing where to go from there.

He leaned forward, pressing against Sam slightly and trying to get him to meet his eyes. After a moment or two, he succeeded, bloodshot meeting brown, and for some reason it was Sam who smiled reassuringly, opening his mouth slightly but having to try one more time to get his voice back.

"I…sorry, Gabe," he said, quietly, shaking his head and trying in vain to dry his face. "This is stupid," he echoed from a source that Gabriel could guess easily, sounding defeated.

"Won't tell anyone if you tell me what's eatin' you," the angel hazarded, raising an eyebrow. Sam seemed ready to argue, but apparently argued himself out of it, just hanging his head and exhaling, frustrated.

"I—" he started, the rest of the sentence catching in his throat, and he grit his teeth in a twisted grin as he tried to compose himself. "I just," he forced out, "miss…Jessica."

With that his face disappeared into his hands, but his expression was clear from the shake of his shoulders and his uneven breaths.

If they had been anything else, Gabriel might have taken the time to feel offended. There were a multitude of reasons that he could have—should have, in some people's eyes—but, he wasn't really as much of a jerk as he liked to pretend sometimes.

"Hey," Gabe said, again, squeezing Sam's shoulder, rewarded with a head being lifted slightly above now thoroughly soaked hands. Just enough to see Gabriel spread his arms out and smile unsurely, issuing an invitation.

Luckily, Sam accepted, leaning over and wrapping his arms around Gabe and burying his head in the nook of his shoulder while the angel sat up as straight as possible to try and make up for the height difference, rubbing Sam's back and just barely resisting the urge to rock him back and forth.

Instead, he found himself manifesting his wings for the first time in what had to have been centuries, wrapping them around the sniffling mass in his arms out of an instinct he couldn't quite place. For a few minutes Gabe thought that he might be able to play it off, folding them back away once Sam had gotten himself together.

That was before someone apparently decided to get handsy and grab a fistful of feathers.

Gabriel jumped slightly in surprise, because come on, you don't just touch a guy's wings, but couldn't sneak in a protest before Sam spoke up.

"Oh," he said flatly, obviously catching on to the fact that he wasn't supposed to touch, "Sorry."

"No, no, it's fine, I guess," Gabe answered immediately. It wasn't 'fine', actually, but he couldn't just go and berate a soggy Sammy on his shoulder. "Just warn a guy next time."

"Oh," said Sam, again. Then, "Gabe."

"Yeah?"

"I'm gonna touch your wings."

Gabriel couldn't really complain about it that time, since he guessed Sam did follow his instructions. And it wasn't so jarring, Sam stroking a few feathers instead of grabbing them.

"They're nice," he commented.

"Like the rest of me," Gabe shot back, relieved when Sam finally let go of him and sat up, staring at the wet spot he'd left on the angel's shirt.

"Uh," he started, but Gabriel just brushed his shoulder off, the spot disappearing.

"Not a problem," Gabe said with a grin, before summoning a box of tissues and holding them out for Sam. "You kind of look like shit, though."

The hunter laughed slightly, taking the box and proceeding to wipe everything wet off his face. Gabe sent his wings away, back to the place where humans couldn't see them, and was relieved when Sam declined to mention them.

"You gonna be okay, Sammy?"

"Yeah, yeah, just…don't know what came over me. Sorry."

"Um-hm. Just do me a favor and don't tell anyone about the wing thing. It's kinda' personal."

Sam nodded, tissue to his nose.

"I'll keep quiet if you do."

"Whatever, everyone knows you're a big crybaby."

Gabe got an elbow to the side for that, though at least Sam was smiling again.

"_Jerk_."

The angel couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at that.

But he'd let it go, just this once.

"Softie."

_I love you, too._

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_Someone invite me to AO3_


End file.
